Fall to Glory
by maddizoe
Summary: Angus Mistrin is a young boy, this is his story. PLOT TWIST
1. Chapter 1

The young boy, Angus Mistrin, cowered in the corner of the bedroom. In his house there was two bedrooms, one for him and his older sister, and one for his parents. It was quite dark, being from District 11, they were poor, so their house was simple, and dark.  
'Angus!' He heard the daunting voice booming from the hallway. His father had just got home from work.  
He pulled his knees up closer to his chest and stared at the door. A minute or two later the bedroom door was flung open. The tall figure stood in the doorway and looked down on Angus with disgust. He leant down and picked the frail child up, one hand on each arm, squeezing tightly. Angus began to cry.  
'Shut up boy. Why are you not at school?' the man scowled, tightening his grip on Angus as his feet dangled in the air.  
'They sent me home,' Angus sobbed. The man threw him on the bed, and as he fell back he hit his head on the wall. Falling forward in pain, Angus grabbed his head and held it, curling up into a ball.  
'Lies, Angus. Stop lying to me!' The man walked over to him and grabbed his hair, pulling his head back so he could see his face. Angus cried more, tears streaming down his face, eyes puffing up.  
'I'm not lying.' He wasn't, in fact, Angus had been sick a couple of times at school and so they thought it best he rest at home. The man growled and lifted him up again onto his feet by the side of the bed.  
'You try my patience, boy.' The man held his hand up so Angus could see what he was about to do. Angus flinched as the man struck him on the cheek so hard he was knocked sideways, back onto the bed. The man stormed out slamming the door behind him, leaving Angus sobbing on the bed, holding his face from the fresh sting.  
When he was sure that his father was asleep from drinking, Angus snuck out of the back door, and stared at the flowers in front of him. He knelt down and began to tend to their delicate needs. White roses, his favourite. This was his own precious garden.


	2. Chapter 2

Angus stood, 10 years old, in the crowd with his mother and father. His older sister Gillian was 14, and so had her name in the bowl. He watched as the strange lady from the Capitol addressed the crowd.  
'Greetings District 11. Welcome to the 15th annual Hunger Games. Today we choose one courageous young girl and boy to have the honour of representing this district in the Capitol and the arena. Ladies first.'  
She dug her hand in the bowl with all the girls' names in it and pulled out a single bit of paper, opened it, and read out the name written upon it.  
'Gillian Mistrin'  
The world stopped around him, all Angus could feel was his feet running beneath him, towards his sister. The peacekeepers stopped him, he could hear himself screaming her name, reaching out to her. But it was all in vain. She walked to the stage, as if in a daze. She was lost now.  
The peacekeepers lead Angus back to his parents. His mother crying onto his father's shoulder. He looked up at them and started crying. His mum stepped forward and knelt down to his level, embracing him tightly. He looked up blankly at his father who scowled at him. His mum stood up and went back to cry on his father, so he went to hug him too. He didn't know what he would expect but his father batted him off, then as he fell to the floor, his father stepped back onto his foot, breaking a toe or two.  
He jumped up and ran off, out of the square. He slipped through a gap in the fence and made his way to the train station, running along the train tracks. He managed to get into a carriage and hide himself away.  
He waited patiently for around an hour before he felt the train jolt forward.  
Now he was on his way to the Capitol.


	3. Chapter 3

Angus looked up at the night sky. He lay in a shop door, covered in a blanket. He heard a noise from inside the shop so he jumped up and grabbed his blanket and stumbled off round a corner to hide. He still had a limp from where his father had broken his toe, and he could see that where he had been walking and running, it was starting to swell beyond control.  
It went quiet again so he snuck back round to the door he was sleeping in. He had been in the Capitol for a couple of weeks now, so was getting used to the hiding and running.  
In the day people weren't as bothered by him wandering around, and he managed to catch glimpses of the footage from The Hunger Games on TVs in shop windows. The games officially started tomorrow.  
He settled down and got some sleep.  
He woke up to the sound of rattling pots and pans, and lots of shouting. He looked up and saw a blue lady standing in the door of the shop smacking a ladle against a saucepan and shouting at him to move. He jumped up with a bolt and ran off down the road leaving his blanket behind.  
He ran for as far as he could manage then fell to his knees gasping for air. He couldn't run far anymore, although he was used to hunger in his District, he got even less food living on the streets of the Capitol.  
Something caught his gaze, from the corner of his eye he saw a TV in the window of the shop he'd stopped outside of. He pressed his hands and face against the glass to try and get a better look. He saw all the tributes standing on their podiums. And there was Gillian, eyes filled with fear, but looking healthier than he'd ever seen her before.  
The time ticked down, and then the games had started. Gillian ran towards the weapons to try and claim on, but the boy from District 1 reached the cornucopia in seconds and then turned around, running towards Gillian. She was the youngest this year. She froze with fear, and he didn't even need to run after her. He reached her, and plunged his knife into her gut, pulled it out, then plunged it into her chest. She fell to the ground lifeless. She was the first to die.  
Angus stared at the TV not daring to move, or to show his emotions, so the people around him wouldn't guess where he was from.


	4. Chapter 4

Angus walked along the streets of the Capitol, dragging his feet. He had to remove one of his shoes where his foot was so swollen. Tears stained his cheeks and he could quite clearly see his ribs.

He turned the corner and bumped into a middle aged man with spikey green hair.

'I'm sorry,' Angus whispered as loud he could. His throat was so dry.

'Oh no, sweetie, that's ok.' The man said smiling brightly at him. Angus began to continue walking but the man grabbed him lightly on the shoulder and stopped him. He walked round so that they were face to face and looked him right in the eyes. 'Are you ok?' Angus nodded but the man didn't seem convinced. 'Come back to mine, we'll clean you up, get you fed.' Angus nodded again.

The gentleman led him down an alley way and then helped him up a flight of stairs. He opened the door onto his apartment and Angus's jaw nearly dropped. The room they entered was bigger than his whole house in District 11. He led him through to the bathroom and told him to strip his clothes. He did so, and then the man walked him into the shower and washed him down then gave him a towel to cover himself. Then he went to get some clothes, he came back with plain black trousers and a brown paisley shirt. They were a bit too big but he didn't mind. He valued this man's kindness.

To eat, the man gave Angus a large plate with stew and bread. He wanted to just scoff the food down because he hadn't eaten anything in a few days. But he felt he needed to be polite and so he quietly and slowly ate through the whole stew. He was still hungry after he'd finished but the man had been so kind in giving him any of his food. He sat opposite Angus at the table, watching him, with intent, but kind intent.

'What's your name honey?' the man asked.

'I… I don't have a name.' He was scared that they'd send him back if they ever found out who he was.

'What happened to your family?'

'They died…. Terrible…' he mumbled.

'Oh sweetie, well you can live here with us. We'll call you Coriolanus Snow.'


	5. Chapter 5

Coriolanus looked at the man in front of him, dressed in a deep red suit, with blue stars painted down the side of his face starting from his hairline, which had been fully shaved on one side of his head. Coriolanus was dressed in an all black suit with a pink tie which his father had forced him to wear.

'So Mr Snow, why do you want a promotion?' asked the man. As soon as he had turned 16, his adopted father, the kind man from the alleyway, had got him a job making tea and coffee for the government ministers. From this day on, Corey, as his family called him, had decided that he would work his way up and one day become President so that he could stop The Hunger Games.

Now he had already had two promotions and was working under his father. At 20, he was the youngest, but still one of the best.

'I need a new challenge,' Corey replied.

'Well you know there is no promotion for you, your father already has that role.'

'Can't you make a position available?'

'No, sorry Mr Snow. You'll just have to wait.'

Corey went home scowling and cursing under his breath. His father, now with spikey green hair and more wrinkles on his face greeted him in the kitchen. They had taken good care of him in those ten years, his father and his mother. He was an only child as they couldn't have children themselves, so his mother used to say it was fate that he bumped into his now father that day.

'Hi Son, what's up?' his father asked.

'You know very well what's up. They wouldn't give me a promotion.'

'I told you they wouldn't, that's my job.' His father got back to making dinner. Corey looked up at his father and went into an angered daze.

'You're right.' He said as he walked towards his father. He picked up a knife that was on the side and plunged it into his father's stomach. He gasped and looked up at Corey, then fell to the floor, clutching his middle. There was a scream from the doorway. Corey turned to see his mother standing, watching what he was doing.

'Corey. What have you done?' she screamed. Corey looked down at the knife in his hand, covered in his father's blood, then down at his father, curled up on the floor. His mother ran forwards and knelt down by his father, trying to stop the blood. Corey couldn't think, his hands did the work for him. He watched as he stabbed his mother several times in the back. She fell to the floor beside her husband.

He dropped the knife into the sink and turned on the tap, watching the water run over the knife, and the blood run down the sink. He walked to the door, leaving the tap running, but stopped and turned around.

'I'm getting a promotion.'


	6. Chapter 6

'Congratulations Mr Snow. We are delighted to offer you the role of personal assistant to the President.'

Corey smiled deviously. Of course they gave it to him, he was the best of the best. He had worked his way up from the bottom, properly at first, but then he started wanting it too much, and he lost sight of why he had this ambition in the first place. First he killed the people who had taken him in all those years ago, then when he felt he had outgrown his position he killed each person who was above him to make sure he got all the promotions he wanted. He plotted carefully, to make sure they would never find out it was him; poison, 'falling' out of a window, drowning, and even one assassin.

Now he was so close to the President that he could work out his every move and when the time was right, take him too, so he could control the whole of Panem.

'Very good, thank you,' Corey said, and then made his way to his new office.

He spent the rest of the day carefully watching the President, to start to build a profile, and doing lots of paperwork and making appointments.

When he went home, still the apartment where his parents lived, he walked straight into his parents old bedroom and looked around. Covering all 4 walls, apart from a gap where the door was, Corey had begun to grow Rose bushes with beautiful white roses. In the centre of the room remained the double bed that his parents shared, still dressed in the same sheets from 20 years ago. He took his handkerchief from his pocket and coughed into it. Blood. This was becoming a usual thing due to the sores in his mouth caused by the small amounts of poison he had sometimes drank when he made a kill, to cover up the fact that it was his doing even more.

He picked one of the roses off the bush and smelt it, smiling as he did so. He'd always loved the smell of roses, ever since he was a child and he had first come across them in the orchards of District 11. He fastened the rose to his lapel, he found that their scent helped to cover up the smell of blood on his breath. He picked up the watering can which he kept in the room and started watering his plants.

'Soon, my lovelies, soon I will have a bigger garden for you to grow in.'


End file.
